


I Want the Whole Street Out of Town (Just So I Can Be Alone With You)

by Merlin242



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bartender Mickey Milkovich, Dancer Ian Gallagher, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Good Boyfriend Ian Gallagher, Good Boyfriend Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Jealous Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, POV Mickey Milkovich, Protective Mickey Milkovich, Public Hand Jobs, Violent Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25431427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlin242/pseuds/Merlin242
Summary: He raised a brow in Ian’s direction ‘’bullshit.’’ It wasn’t hard to believe at all- Mickey’s spent the majority of their relationship beating up the guys who hit on or touched Ian.Or Mickey doesn't really like it when guys touch Ian and Ian really likes it when Mickey is riled up.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 11
Kudos: 190





	I Want the Whole Street Out of Town (Just So I Can Be Alone With You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this started out as something completely different and it all just sort of spiralled out of control. It literally had a mind of it's own and I was completely powerless to stop it. Hope you like it and this was my first ever attempt at something even partly close to smut so don't hate me too much. Enjoy.
> 
> Title is from Adore by Dean Lewis. I own nothing.

Mickey hates the club, loathes it with a passion he usually only reserves for when Ian wakes him up at an ungodly hour. The music is always too loud and the lighting gives him a headache of epic proportions. Not to mention all the pussy’s prowling around with a wad of cash in one hand and their dicks in the other as they salivate over guys that are way out of their league.

It makes him want to bang his head off a wall or punch one of the unsuspecting fucks in the face. Maybe both depending on his mood.

But he needs this job- and if serving shitty drinks and forcing a smile means being able to pay the rent on his apartment then he’ll damn well do it. Nobody could ever say Mickey Milkovich was a quitter. 

Besides if Mickey was being honest (and he wasn’t, he really, really wasn’t) then his main problem wasn’t the old queens or the lights or the fucking bass. His main problem was up dancing on a fucking podium right now and seeming to attract every creep in the place. Ian fucking Gallagher in his gold booty shorts and stupid tie and stupid smirk.

 _Case in point really_ , he thought; idly slamming a drink onto the bar for a guy as he watched his boyfriend make eye contact with someone at the edge of the stage, a slow predatory smirk unfurling on his lips. The guy looked like Christmas had come early, licking his lips and eyeing Ian up and down as the red head changed his routine so the guy was his main focus of attention.

He knew Ian didn’t find the man attractive or interested in him at all. He knew Ian liked the power play, that it made him feel in control to reduce these guys to blubbering messes. He knew all of those things.

But that didn’t mean Mickey didn’t want to hop over the bar and beat the guy to a pulp when he ran his hand down the crease in Ian’s shorts and over his thigh until he was cupping his calf in a possessive way- like Ian belonged to him. Mickey had to repeat the words Ian had murmured into his skin a few months ago when the fingers trailed back up over the crotch of the gold shorts and into the waistband.

 _Remember who I’ll be going home with at the end of the night Mick._ He’d said tongue laving over Mickey’s nipple and nothing but heat and fondness in his tone, _remember whose dick I’ll be sucking. Whose name I’ll be moaning when I come._ Ian had done all that and more not long after, much to his delight.

From the corner of his eye Mickey could see the bouncer eyeing him and he forced his eyes away and tried to focus on the guy waving him down at the end of the bar. It’s not like the bouncer’s or the other dancers or the other bartenders didn’t know exactly why Mickey had what they liked to call his _‘serial killer stare’_ trained on that guy but as they all liked to remind him- it was bad for business if one of their best dancers suddenly became off limits in every imaginable way.

Mickey probably should have been fired months ago honestly, back when he and Ian first started and some creep had put his hands all over Ian in what he probably thought was turning the red head on. Unluckily for him, Mickey had been working the bar and sporting a dark mark on his neck from Ian’s ministrations earlier on and very much not in the mood for his newly defined boyfriend getting groped right in front of him. Guy was lucky he’d only gotten off with a broken nose and a few bruises- if it had been a year or two earlier Mickey might have just straight up killed him.

Needless to say his boyfriend’s weird magic worked on pretty much everyone (Mickey included) and he got to keep his job and also gained respect from most of the staff in the meantime. Something about Mickey beating the crap out of someone in defence of Ian being romantic or some shit. 

Ian only ever laughed when the staff swooned over their ‘love story’. 

‘’Hey dipshit’’ a voice called next to him and Mickey turned to see a preppy douche with perfectly parted blonde hair and brown eyes snapping his fingers at him like he was a dog ‘’stop eyeing the help and get us some drinks.’’

Chad or Brad or whatever other asshole name he had, laughed and who Mickey assumed were his friends patted him on the back, cackling like a bunch of fuckwits and he gritted his teeth against the urge to snap back at them; gripping the tumbler with white knuckles as he prepared their drinks.

Fucking morons were lucky he’d never come across them as a teen in the southside.

He practically threw the drinks onto the bar, delighting in the glare Chad/Brad threw him when they sloshed onto his front- the neatly pressed pink shirt now stained an ugly brown ‘’sorry man’’ he smirked, gesturing with mock apology ‘’clumsy fingers y’know.’’

The guy must have seen his knuckle tattoos and decided to wisely keep his mouth, lest Mickey fuck him up, because he only grunted and turned to his friends so he wasn’t looking at Mickey anymore. _Pussy_ he thought amusedly and turned to fulfil another order- he couldn’t expect less from northside pricks though.

He felt eyes on him somewhere in the whirlwind of drink orders and looked up to find Ian staring at him with dark eyes. The red head was still dancing, rotating his hips and somehow accentuating everything from his muscles to the bulge in his shorts, but this time his eyes were on Mickey instead of the crowd formed around him and the former thug felt something warm settle in his stomach.

This Ian. This Ian with the dark eyes and the red lips and the confidence that oozed from every fucking pore was the first Ian Mickey had ever met. The one that came up to him with swaying hips and blown out green eyes as his eyes raked Mickey’s form- like Mickey was the god instead of it being the other way around. He loved every version of Ian but this one held a special place in his heart.

He’d certainly gotten more than a job and a lap dance the day he’d waltzed in the place.

Gallagher smirked at him quick and private, nodding his head until Mickey followed his eyes down to see the same guy from earlier draped halfway onto the podium. His boyfriend rolled his eyes when he looked back up and Mickey laughed, mouthing ’20 minutes’ at him to say they didn’t have long left on their shift.

Ian smiled- all goofy and lopsided, like the puppy he knew his boyfriend to be outside of work before he schooled his features and turned his attention back to the guys around him. _Fuck_ , did he love Ian Gallagher.

It was the kind of love Mickey had always thought would never be on the cards for him- a dirty southside thug with too much anger and a father that would sooner put him six feet under than admit just who his son was. He’d done everything he could to convince people he wasn’t gay, fucked girls, gay bashed, went on runs and drunk until he couldn’t feel the shame anymore.

Mickey had felt dirty in every sense of the word and during one of Terry’s welcome home parties he’d looked at all the couples around him, his brothers giggling and high with some girl in the corner and Mandy staring at him with pity and he’d just- snapped. Stood on the bar in the fucking Alibi with alcohol thrumming in his veins and courage making him loud and shouted to the whole bar that he was _a big ol’ mo._

Terry beat the crap out of him as expected but Mickey felt freer than he ever had before. Every punch and kick his father landed only solidified his decision- even if he’d died that night, with blood dripping down his face and ribs that ached and ached, he would never regret saying those words. He’d have died brave. He’d have died who he was, instead of getting shot on a run living a lie.

His brother’s were the ones to lift Terry off his body whilst Mandy made sure he wasn’t actually dead, and it was his brother’s who’d given him a rare smile once Terry had been carted off; tugging him into a hug and saying they already knew, had known for years. And Mickey breathed- for the first time in his life, the weight on his chest gone. He was _free._

He met Ian a few months after, completely blindsided by this idiot in booty shorts with red hair and too green eyes. Mickey never saw him coming, but then with the best things you never do.

Ian stepped off his platform twenty minutes later with an apologetic wink aimed at his crowd of admirers and Mickey met his gaze with a grimace, inclining his head at the full bar and shrugging. Aaron hadn’t appeared to relieve Mickey on the bar yet which meant they’d have to wait until he showed up. Which could be minutes or hours, _fucking Aaron._

With a smile Ian nodded his head and disappeared to get changed, Mickey turning his attention back to the bar.

Aaron was fucking dead- that’s all Mickey could think as he fixed a Malibu Sunset, almost dropping the rum. He’d had a plan for tonight- Ian would fuck him until he saw stars and Mickey would kiss every inch of his boyfriends skin, erase every foreign touch with his lips, and then when they were both spent and aching- Mickey would ask Ian to move in. There was no way firecrotch would say no when he was still coming down from an orgasm. No way.

‘’The red head is hot right’’ someone said in front of him and the brunette looked up to see it was the guy who’d been eye fucking Ian all night, the one who’d put his hands on Ian’s skin like they belonged there.

Mickey only grunted; hands tightening around the glass he was cleaning. The guy was younger than he’d originally thought- probably late 40’s with salt and pepper hair and brown eyes. Stereotypical business man with a liking for younger boys- not someone Mickey particularly wanted to entertain, especially when the _young boy_ in question was the man he loved.

‘’-gonna take him home and fuck him raw I think. Twink like that has got to be overdue a good pounding, am I right?’’ the man laughed, reaching over to bump Mickey’s shoulder like they were old friends and he took a deep breath in through his nose.

_I’m not gonna kill him. I’m not gonna kill him. I’m not gonna kill him._

‘’Look man do you want a drink or not?’’ he snapped- and saw Aaron hurry through the side door from the corner of his eye. _Thank fuck._

The creep opened his mouth to reply and Mickey waited for some scathing remark but then Ian was suddenly there, smiling at him like he didn’t even see anyone else in the room and Mickey felt his hackles go down. The effect Ian had on him was fucking bizarre to say the least. Not that he was complaining all that much.

‘’Hey’’ he greeted, slipping a hand over the brunette’s bicep ‘’ready to go?’’ apparently Ian had seen Aaron as well.

Mickey opened his mouth but was cut off by the creep who’d decided Mickey was his new best friend ‘’always ready for you red’’ the guy smirked- sidling up to Ian ‘’gonna fuck you so good.’’

Ian and Mickey both gaped at him for a second, that familiar anger pulsing in his veins ‘’fuck did you just say?’’ he spat- about 2 seconds away from jumping over the bar.

The guy was an utter fucking idiot, that much was clear. 

‘’Look he’s mine pal, so just back the fuck up and find some other piece of ass to bend over for you.’’

_He was gonna fucking kill him._

‘’Yours?’’ Mickey laughed, hands planted on the bar top as he watched Ian try to step away only for the guy to reel him back in with a hand on his waist. _Danger_ apparently wasn’t something they taught on the northside. 

‘’Yes, mine’’ the idiot purred- nosing Ian’s neck and ignoring the red head trying to push him off. 

Ian must have seen his face because he made a move towards him, lips parted and hand outstretched right as Mickey launched himself over the top of the bar and took the guy down. Hands were around his waist almost immediately but he shook them off, landing punch after punch- white hot rage burning through him and setting his nerve endings on fire.

The fucking nerve of this asshole. Who in the fuck did he think he was? 

He was lifted off the man and held back- Ian’s familiar warmth settling on his back and grounding him ‘’you ever fucking touch him again and I’ll fucking end you dick breath. You hear me?’’ the guy groaned and Mickey spat at him; taking note of the crowd gathered around them and Simon, the bouncer, on his boyfriend’s other side.

 _Fuck_ , he was so getting fired.

‘’Mick come on’’ Ian tugged on his arm and he managed to get in one last kick as the red head dragged him through the crowd until they tumbled into the locker rooms. Aaron was in there and took one look at his bruised knuckles and red face before booking it out the door, much to Ian’s obvious amusement.

‘’I can’t believe you just did that’’ Ian finally said, voice low and throaty- no trace of the anger Mickey expected.

He raised a brow in Ian’s direction ‘’bullshit.’’ It wasn’t hard to believe at all- Mickey’s spent the majority of their relationship beating up the guys who hit on or touched Ian. 

Shit like that happened all the goddamn time. It was getting seriously out of hand; only the other day they’d been in line for coffee at some swanky new place his boyfriend just had to try and this prick walked right up to Ian and blatantly copped a feel like Mickey wasn’t even standing there. Fucking unbelievable.

‘’-so hot Mickey, I swear’’ Ian was saying and Mickey tuned back in with a frown- taking in the red head’s flushed cheeks and darkened eyes.

‘’The fuck ‘re you talking about now?’’ he asked and Ian looked at him, eyes blown and tongue licking at the corner of his mouth. _Fuck_ , Gallagher was going to kill him.

‘’I said you’re so fucking hot Mickey Milkovich’’ he breathed into Mickey’s ear, taking a step closer and pushing him back until he felt the cool metal of the lockers at his back ‘’defending me like that.’’

Ian tugged at his earlobe with his teeth before laving over his neck, pulling a startled groan from Mickey ‘’fuck Ian.’’

He felt Ian’s grin over his pulse point before teeth attached to his neck and the red head nipped, licked and sucked his way to Mickey’s lips. There was a hand at his belt, tugging and pulling- practiced fingers undoing the buckle but he was too far gone to help; dick twitching.

‘’Fuck’’ he gasped breaking the kiss when long fingers closed over his shaft, a drop of precum dripping off the tip that Ian used as lube- his boyfriend’s own dick nudged at his hip but Mickey was too jarred from the sudden switch of anger to arousal to think straight.

‘’Such a good boy for me Mick- so good’’ Ian babbled, slotting his lips back onto Mickeys and licking into his mouth with a groan. Mickey shifted his leg so it sat between Ian’s and his boyfriend ground down- chasing the friction.

One hand scraped the short hair on the back of his head, the other slipping over his slit and moving down until Ian could play with his balls. His pace quickened, the rhythm matching each grind his boyfriend made onto Mickey’s knee and he bucked into Ian’s hand.

‘’Shit Ian, ‘m gonna’’ he gasped, balls tightening after one particularly hard tug. He was drowning in Ian’s scent, his warmth, his touch. Those little noises Ian made- breathy moans that went high pitched and then stuttered off as he moved harder and harder against him.

‘’It’s ok’’ Ian breathed, sounding as wrecked as Mickey felt ‘’let go- I’ve got you.’’

His thrusts went sloppy, hand slipping over Mickey with an abandon that meant Ian was close too. Warmth swept through him and Mickey felt his toes curl as he came over Ian’s hand- mouth open in an ‘o’- his boyfriend following shortly after, face hidden in Mickey’s shoulder and hips stilling as he shuddered.

They stood for a while after, kissing lazily and Mickey felt sated, sleepy almost as he nudged Ian back to refasten his belt. Now definitely wasn’t the time. It wasn’t, but…

‘’Move in with me?’’

‘’What?’’ Ian froze, staring at him with wide eyes and Mickey panicked- his post orgasm haze fading rapidly in the face of Ian’s shock.

‘’I just- I mean, you’re there all the time anyway. And I just thought it could save you some money and I’m really sorry if you think it’s too soon- it was stupid, sorry; forget I asked, it’s-.’’

Ian kissed him, hard- hands slipping into Mickey’s hair and holding him there like he couldn’t bare to let him go ‘’yes.’’

‘’What?’’ Mickey gaped, leaning into Ian’s grip even as the red head moved away.

Ian grinned, all mischief and his typical Gallagher warmth as he pecked Mickey’s nose ‘’yes I’ll move in with you.’’

‘’Wait, really?’’

Ian laughed, head tipping back and joy sparkling in his green eyes and Mickey felt his own face soften in response- fuck he loved this guy. 

‘’Yes- you dork’’ Ian’s hand slid down his arm until it was gripping Mickey’s own ‘’now let’s get home so I can prove it to you properly.’’

 _Home_ \- he liked the sound of that.

And well Mickey wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself but maybe he didn’t hate the club that much. It brought him Ian Gallagher after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think- I love getting your feedback. And come find me on tumblr if you ever wanna scream about Gallavich any time, I'm merlinthegryffindor. Don't know how to link it, sorry guys.


End file.
